It’s December 2009, I’m about to deploy, and I have to drive my car across the country to drop it off at my brother’s to look after. I picked up a guy somewhere on I-90, not sure where.. the states kind of blend together when you have to drive over 1k miles a day. He smelled like old wet laundry but he didn’t try to talk which made it bearable. I drove for a few hours and dropped him off at a truck stop he requested.. right along the highway so it’s whatever. I lose maybe 10 minutes total. Then I bought some gas and snacks and got back on the road. I had a full tank and continued driving non-stop, passing lane the whole way, until I was almost out and had to stop for more fuel.

As I enter this gas station I see a familiar figure in this food court area and can’t believe my eyes.. it’s him.. it’s the hitchhiker. He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled like he knew what was going through my mind and then went back to eating without saying a word. I was freaked out for days. Not only was the coincidence uncanny but how the fuck did he beat me there?

Had a buddy that picked up a couple guys one time, they put a gun to his head and tried to get him to drive to different houses so they could rob them and use his car as the getaway, but my friend jumped out and ran away, they took off on his car, cops found it a few weeks later in a motel parking lot after a week of massive storms, with all of the windows busted out and interior full of water. He got his car back though!

I was driving from Georgia to Tennessee and saw a friendly looking guy dressed like an old hippie walking down the side of the road. I pulled over and offered him a ride. He said no thanks, his place was just down the road, God bless you for asking. Naturally I was feeling pretty pleased with myself so I pulled over for the next guy just a minute further down the road. Same old hippie look, but his thumb out. I rolled down my window and he leaned in and cursed everyone who’d passed him and damned the whole state and said he’d blow every motherfucker in it sky high and then ran to get his bags from the woods. He stood at the edge of the woods and waved his arms around at them in what I can only imagine was a pantomime of him blowing them up in a hellish firestorm.

After he threw his bags in my trunk he climbed in and proceeded to tell me:

That he was God

That his dick was enormous

That he could control me with his mind

That he had a huge rifle in his small backpack

That every fucker in that state was evil and they all knew him and he could blow every fucking one of them up with a single thought if he wanted to

That everybody wanted to see his dick

That my dick wasn’t as big as his

That I wanted to see his dick

That the government was trying to murder him

That he was making me exist

All peppered with fuck fucking fuckers motherfuckers etc., alternating between fast talking and outright yelling at me (“I’m God, I’m fucking God, YOU GOT THAT!!! HUH YOU FUCK I SAID DO YOU FUCKING GOT THAT!!!). I was half convinced he would kill me or whip out his massive dick right there beside me.

I stopped at a McDonalds, ostensibly for food, but in truth to drop him off. He went inside and berated the clerk for being fat. I told him he couldn’t travel with me anymore and took his bags out of my trunk and he cursed me to hell forever as I pulled away.

One time I picked up a guy who looked much rougher up close than I expected, but I gave him a ride anyway. A few miles down the road, he turned to me and said, “Hey, this worked out OK. I needed a ride…and you needed someone who wasn’t going to murder you.”

My family lived in Africa for several years and everyone hitch-hikes there. We had a pick-up truck, so would often pull over and people would pile in until there wasn’t any room left. Then you’d drive on your way and people would hit the cab roof to tell you where to stop. If we were driving anywhere you can pretty much bet we had someone in the back.

Once we were driving some place during the rainy season. It wasn’t raining right then but there were huge puddles all over the road. We were young kids, so my dad started driving through puddles really fast to make a huge spray and we’d all get excited and cheer! After about 10 minutes of splashing we get a bang on the roof, and my Dad was like ‘Shit! We had someone in the back!’ He’d completely forgotten- poor guy was drenched! Had to apologise profusely!

About ten years ago, I was hitchhiking from one town to the next and got picked up by an older gentleman.

Everything was going fine and we were having a normal conversation when suddenly he says “Put your head out the window! Now!”

I looked at him in disbelief as he was rolling it down for me from his door (electric, obviously.)

He said “I’m serious! Now!”

So I did what he asked and put my face about halfway out.

Suddenly, I was greeted by the nastiest fart smell I’d ever witnessed in my life from the inside of the car. It turns out he’d vented his colostomy bag while we were driving because it was inflated. I wasn’t aware that that happened but we continued on the drive and continued our conversation as if nothing had happened and he dropped me off.

Nice guy either way and thanks for looking out for me, anonymous elderly ride giver!

Always wanted to. Did once after my brothers bachelor party in the middle of nowhere, North Pennsylvania. Guy seemed fairly normal, was on his way home from work. Kept bragging about his awesome weed he had. Even showed me, let me touch it and smell it. Bastard never offered.

I regretted picking someone up once. I’ve picked up a few hitchhikers before, usually without any sort of issues, and most of them were actually quite pleasant. I don’t have any stories of me being murdered or kidnapped or raped or anything dramatic or exciting like that with hitchhikers, but one time this drunk guy vomited, pissed and bled all over my backseat. That was a weird day.

Picked up a homeless guy once… well, I was having a bad day and tried to give him a bottle of water. He just unlocked my door and got in… I was ready for an adventure so I embraced it. I was like “So where we going?” He gave me some directions. During the drive, he saw me kinda fidgeting a bit. He said “Are you afraid?”.

The reason I was fidgeting was to grab the gun under my seat, so I pulled it out and said, “Naw, are you?” Then we proceeded to the address. He asked me if I had ever smoked crack. I told him no. He said it was great. Got to the address… whomever didn’t answer when he called so he tried to get me to take him to another address to buy crack. I was like “Naw, man sorry. I can only do 1 free crack cruise. Then he got mad at me lol. That was it. Quite an interesting time.

Well there was this old dude wandering out on the highway and I figured “What’s an old dude who’s limping around gonna do to me?”.

Turns out rob me at gun point, thats what.

And that is why I don’t pick up hitchhikers anymore… Unless they’re hot enough to risk the robbing. Or have a cute dog or something. Or ask nicely. Or flash me while I’m driving past them. So all in all I still pick up hitchhikers.

It all turned out okay, but when I was 16 or 17 (I’m a guy, if it matters to this story), my friend and I were coming home one afternoon, and a couple of slightly older (mid-twenties let’s say) dudes were thumbing a ride right across the street from a smallish private university near our home. I decided to give them a lift, even though it would only be about a mile or two until we would be at our destination. We ask them where they are going, and they tell us they (true story I swear) snuck out of the mental facility (our Lady of Peace) and were going up to the liquor store for some beer.

At first, we were kind of freaked out, and hoped we weren’t about to become a statistic…THEN we got the great idea to ask these guys to buy us a six pack too, which they did! After the transaction was made, we offered to drive them back, but they said they had other plans, so off we went with some cold ones for our trouble…I sure hope those guys stayed out of trouble.

When I lived in Steamboat back in the 80’s I’d hitch or drive down to Boulder for the weekend once or twice a month for a couple years to go see my now wife of 24 years. I had a lifted Jeep CJ5 with no top or doors which is why I’d hitch during the winter. One fall day I picked up a guy outside of town because he was standing where I’d always stand. Anyway he looked like your typical Jesus hippie from 69. Guy never said a word. Wouldn’t tell me where he was going and you literally could see the creepy vibes emanate from him. After 2 minutes I decided to give him the ride of his life. Remember, I’m in a big Jeep, no doors, no top with a powerful V-8 so I floored it over Rabbit Ears pass. His eyes were the size of saucers the whole way so once we reached Kremmling and slowed down he said, “let me off this” and he went his way.

Another story was my roommate and I were coming home on a Sunday in the Jeep and we picked up someone outside of Silverthorne going up to Steamboat. It was getting dark when my Alternator went out so I was only running on battery. We hit Kremmling again and pulled over to debate what to do. We decided to go for it so we hopped on hwy 40 and drove all the way to Steamboat with no headlights. Fortunately there was a full moon and the car in front of us realized what was going on so we tailed them the whole way. Swear to God, once we came down and passed the “Welcome to Steamboat” sign the battery gave out. Hitcher laughed his ass off thanking us for the experience.

Yes. (Preface: I was a 18 year old female college student at the time.) Once a homeless man in his forties who looked a little like my dad asked me for some money and I said no without even checking and drove away. I felt so guilty for not checking that I flipped a U, and gave the guy some change. He was so grateful that I’d turn around just to give him a couple bucks but then asked for a ride to a plasma donation center so he could get some money so I reluctantly agreed but maintained cheerful. He was being creepy and hitting on me and being totally inappropriate but nothing super terrible or physical. Kept his hands to himself. Then he told me a really sad story that he let an addict teenager live with him because the kid had no where else to go, and basically sucked him dry to the point where they got evicted and now this dudes homeless. Well, we finally get to the plasma center, and he asks me for my number. I said no, but he wouldn’t get out of the car unless I gave it to him. Getting a little nervous, I decided it wouldn’t hurt because if it became inappropriate I could just block him.

Over the course of a month I’d get so many calls with the saddest voicemails that made me want to cry every single time. He would just ask me why I’m not answering the phone and that he just found twenty dollars and wanted to take me out for sandwiches. Or tell me “I know you felt that connection we had” when in reality I was just being nice. He’d tell me he’s lonely and was really looking forward to talking to me but I wouldn’t answer. I felt so guilty for that month but I knew it would be terribly stupid of me to hangout with a 50 year old homeless man who hits on me inappropriately. I couldn’t block the number because it kept coming from different pay phones… it was really sad to listen to.

Not seriously, but even mild interactions can be creepy when hichhiking because you’re pretty vulnerable. One time I hopped a train to a small town in South Carolina and had to hitch out. A dude stops for me and immediately starts asking if I have a gun. I don’t, but I’m kinda spooked that he seems to be anticipating that kind of encounter;if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d been stuck in bumfuck nowhere for two days, with below freezing nights I would have noped out right then. As it was he offered to drive me the 15 miles to the nearest interstate (what’s the worst that can happen?). He starts hitting on me hard (I’m a dude, if it mattes) from the moment I get in the car, and grows increasingly pouty when I fail to live up to whatever fantasy he has. By the end of 10 minutes his hand is so far up my leg he’s practically grabbing my cock, and he says

“I’m really dissapointed in you. Usually hitchhikers have a good sex story to tell me at the very least. Seems kinda ungrateful.”

Sorry to dissapoint, dude. I thanked him and skipped before he got even more keyed up.

This happened back in the late 1970’s. I had just gotten my first car and was still living with my parents. The rules were I couldn’t take the car out after dark on the weekend. BUT my parents were out of town.

So a friend of mine and I were out cruising and we see these two cute girls hitchhiking. We stopped and asked them where they were headed. They said Ocean City, which was about a two hour drive away. It was odd, since it was in the fall and there isn’t much happening there. My friend and I looked at one another and said we’re going to Ocean City.

So I drove them out to the Ocean. The one girl was occasionally crying and the other seemed to be making all the decisions and started making out with my friend in the back seat. About 3/4 of the way there, they admitted they were running away from home to live with friends.

So, we get to Ocean City I drive to the place they wanted to go and it was dark and closed up. They insisted in getting out. It was cold and they didn’t have coats but they insisted they could get in.

We made the return trip and just wrote it off as an adventure.

So later that week, I’m reading the newspaper and there was a story about two girls who were kidnapped and driven to Ocean City and forced out of the car by two males. They even gave a description of my car which was pretty unusual at that time since it was a bright yellow Datsun 510 with chrome wheels.

Their run away plan didn’t work out so they told everyone we kidnapped them!